So hi there.
As the title says - I'm looking for art trades. But with a twist.
My "art" is actually writing. I kinda suck at the actual art thing, I've tried multiple times and eh. But my writing, though - I'm the author of a YA fantasy book series that I'm currently sending into agents in an attempt at traditional publishing. It was self-published but I hated it and scrapped it and rewrote the entire book. But anyway I have 50 characters for the entire series so far, and I love getting early art for them. You can see on my profile that they're all hidden, because I'm a little overprotective over my characters, and I don't want my designs leaking out or being stolen when I'm in the middle of trying to publish it.
However, if you're an artist, I'll happily give you a key ;)
I will write up to 10,000 words, but you gotta make me a good deal for that, I'm a working writer, and if you've ever written, that's a lot for something not your own project. A good estimate would probably be 1,000 or 2,000 unless your art blows me away. I'd put a price of $5 for 1,000 and $10 for 2,000. It depends on what I am writing; for more complicated characters and scenes, I'd probably put it at $1 for 100 words each.
I am comfortable with...
- OCs that you've made a personality for
- Humans, but can also do feral
- Building personalities
- Intense scenes between two characters (pls)
- Gore, to an extent
- I am good at fantasy settings, fantasy is my genre, man
- Contemporary, some romance, but mostly fantasy. Just ask me. :)
- Emotions. Lots of drama.
- Any scene in a nature setting
- LGBT+ characters
I can't do...
- Smut or sexual NSFW, nudity
- Fanfictions or characters already in existing series that aren't yours
- Self-harm of any kind
- Science fiction (I can't feel the vibe, sorry)
- Extreme, extreme gore
- SOLELY LGBT+ romantic scenes. I feel like I'd do it wrong, I'm really sorry. I can, of course, do LGBT+ characters with NO PROBLEM and would be happy to, but I'm afraid I can't do purely romantic scenes because I'm not fantastic at romance, in general, and I feel like I'd mess it up. Sorry :(
Note: I usually write in 1st person point of view, past tense, but it depends on how I feel about the scene and situation. If you just want me to make a profile and personality, that's totally different.
Here's some examples. Little afraid to use a couple from scenes I've written for my books, but two of these are lore that I did for dragons off the site flightrising.com.
THIS IS FROM MY SERIES. I WILL TRACK YOU DOWN IF YOU STEAL. thanks luv you :) Also some violence but not NSFW
The metal binding that kept the raft in one place was readying to slip off, and the log that I held onto wobbled and crashed into the river. I lurched back and grasped onto the next, although loose. [HIDDEN NAME] almost fell into the waters with me, but somehow saved herself with quick reflexes.
We’re going to die.
The single thought that I could manage. There was nothing more to my mind; the others couldn’t hear me when I announced out that the binding had fallen into the river, and the logs broke apart. I found myself going from the raft to the turbulent waters. I screeched right as my head was forced under, and the logs blocked my way of taking in much-needed oxygen. My breath was stolen away from me.
I was too fragile to move the logs, my lack of breath multiplying my weakness. I inhaled water into my already-weak lungs and the sensation of incredible burn coursed through them. It was unlike anything I’d ever felt. I desperately held onto my backpack to save the cat. That was, if I could save myself. Eventually, the logs allowed me a gap to reach the surface, but my gasp of air didn’t last long as I was slammed against a rock. An object cut my leg, and when I gasped to fill my lungs with air, rain poured into my mouth.
I’m actually going to die. I was thrown against another rock and wheezed, my thoughts blurring. My vision spotted with light and sensed the halt of my functionality. I couldn’t talk, I couldn’t breathe. I was dying, faster and faster, and I could do nothing about it.
But in the following moments, there was no water around me.
That caught my attention. I flashed open my eyes, only to see I was surrounded by air. I had fallen off a waterfall. There was a pit of water beneath me, feet below, and I was falling.
Falling. Falling. Falling.
I’m going to die.
Falling. Falling. Falling.
The water was so close, so close. My life was going to end in shock, terror, and panic. It wasn’t my ideal ending, but it wasn’t my choice.
But as the lake beneath me got closer, my life seemed to sprint through me. I began to remember all my moments - the best, the worst, the people I knew. There weren’t many smiles. That was my fault. That was my fault for obeying the Code. Regret flashed through me as my life did, and I closed my eyes. I did not want to watch my own death.
My last thought was compelling.
I wish I would’ve smiled more.
I hit the water.
My vision faltered, my muscles tensed, and my lungs dysfunctioned. I could’ve sworn my heart stopped pumping. I was dying. Dying. Falling off the cliff was the end of my life. My organs stopped functioning, one by one, each until my brain wasn’t.
Fraust has had his fair share of battle and internal war. The kind of war that you cannot see in one's eyes, unless you peer close enough to read the inner depths of their souls. He hides his face within a wolf mask - no one knows where he got it, and no one has ever seen him without it. Some say if they get close enough, they can spot the drippage of tears as they roll down his fur.
Fraust was rescued as a young dragonet. No one knew his backstory. Anala had taken a trip to the frigid winds of the Southern Icefield, only to find him alone and deserted in the tundras. She took him underneath his wing, mothering him and caring for him with Atlantis, as if he was their own. Fraust clearly had some kind of PTSD, for he rarely uttered a word.
Anala watched as he always seemed to stray off to the far ends of the Ashfall Wastes, peaking out toward the Southern Icefield. He was emotionless; Anala herself hadn't even urged more than a few words out of him, and his wolf mask didn't help. She and Atlantis often thought it was because he was missing something, a family member or sibling. But they were wrong, as one day, they caught Fraust bravely defending off a wolf from reaching to the Clan of the Flaring Constellations.
Fraust stood unspeaking for months, years. No one could pierce through his walls; no one tried. Until, one day, a youngster from the clan took interest. She was like the Sun; full of warmth, color, inspiration, light, and euphoria. She took an interest in Fraust's stone-cold expressions. She didn't believe the clan when they said his always-frigid temperatures came from his frozen heart.
Day after day, Aine spent with him as she grew. She made it a mission to talk with him each day, comfort him, even though he never said anything back. It took months as she grew, and he did too. She chatted her mouth off until his ears were sore, until the Sun dropped over the horizon. But he never seemed to care. He never responded to her, until one night, she asked, one, faithful question.
"Have you listened to anything I've ever said, Fraust?" she twiddled with her talons as they sat on the cliffs, gazing out to the setting Sun. "You seem so hurt. What could it possibly be that you are looking out to? I'm not sure why I ask these questions. I never get responses."
But that time it was different. Fraust slowly turned his head toward her, the Sun reflecting his white wolf mask a tangerine, and his icy colors silvery gold. But he reached forward with trembling talons, lifting the wolf mask off his face. Aine sucked in a breath of air, but a warm smile spread across her face at his soft expressions.
"No, Aine," he rumbled, "I listen. I am just in tranquility. I am at peace."
Atlantis was anything but normal. His heart hungry for adventure just as a tiny hatchling, Atlantis was constantly reaching toward the sky with his talons outstretched for a journey. He was taken into the clan at a young age from his parents, legends in their own. As the first-born son, he was filled with the powers of the oceans and unknown. His eyes glimmered with a new power and light offered to his clan, and his confident smile an assurance to any dragon that would doubt him. His clan knew since he was young that he was destined for an exciting life, filled to the brim with euphoria for finding the unknown.
Atlantis wasn't constricted by the limits of the Clan of Flaring Constellations. Truly, the Ashfall Waste was where his heart laid in the end, but he was hungry for adventure as a young dragon. He had no one to keep him back; his family wasn't in his tribe, and his close friends encouraged him to be free. It was when he grew up to be strong enough that Atlantis decided to set off. Pacific, a close friend of his, set off with him, as their mutual hunger for a journey melded together. It was just the two of them, setting off on a ship that a local Water clan lent to them.
Nothing could compare to Atlantis' journeys. To him, there was not a thing better than leaning over the side of his ship, feeling the ocean mist brush against his face, and the summer warmth bask on his scales. He was free to go where he willed, meet who he wanted, and trade. A few other dragons joined on his journeys as he went from place to place. Datura, who would become the clan's archeologist. Depth, a dragon home to the waters, but truly lived sailing them. But none of them lived up to the adventure of Anala that he embarked on.
Anala was soft, gentle. Everything Atlantis could have wanted. He met her deep within The Sea of a Thousand Currents, packed in their dungeons. The image of when he first met her burned into his mind. There she was, a young dragon, hunching in the far corners of a jail in a cave that dripped with water. But she stood out against the other dragons in the dungeon; her colors were bright oranges, flaringly beautiful and bold. Her gaze was soft, her talons trembling. Her eyes were a deep blue, however, like the oceans he traveled. It was a shock at first, to see such a fiery dragon in such a watery place.
It had to be the craziest thing Atlantis had ever done. He stopped in his silent tours of the prison, wrapping his talons around the bars constricting her. At first, she was afraid, but it didn't take her long to open up. Atlantis could never wash it from his mind; the moment he roared out, breaking open her bars. Together, they escaped and hopped back onto their ship together. She was petrified, trembling and crying out the entire time. But it was the right thing to do. She wasn't fit within the prisons of Water.
Anala was quiet most of his journeys, her jaw clamped shut. As Atlantis' life continued and his crew went on, he found himself spending time with Anala. Her energies were magnetic, the way she reserved to herself. But each day, Atlantis would find himself talking to her at sunset, using the brilliant warm colors to withdraw her true personality.
Atlantis had no idea he was falling in love. It hit him like a bullet, strikingly fast. He never felt so compelled to a dragon before the way he did to Anala; her depthful, glistening eyes, and gentle touch. Her words of complexity, the way she spoke with such beauty and insight to life. It was unlike Atlantis had ever felt, the wave of love that rushed over him. The pulsing of his heart, a weakness that he finally had felt for the first time in his life.
Anala always spoke about how she wanted to visit home. But, like Atlantis, home wasn't what color his eyes were. Home was what was in their hearts, their spirits and souls. Atlantis grew up with a fiery personality, determined with his mind set on adventure. Anala had flames within her talons, resurged from her heart when she desired. Everything went from logic to heart in seconds, for Atlantis. Suddenly, he craved to show her home. Home, in the Ashfall Waste, where he grew up. Home, where he always knew he would return after his journeys.
So Atlantis did it. He did it for her, he did it for the peace of his own heart. He turned his ship and crew around to visit home, just a short trip. But something felt so right, going back to where he was raised. At last, revisiting. He knew he would always have a desire to embark once again, after he showed Anala where she truly belonged. Pacific, too, was yearning for his birth home. They sailed back to the shores, where his crew raced back to the familiar volcanoes of the Ashfall Waste to reunite with the Clan of Flaring Constellations.
Little did he know, Anala was carrying his egg. It was when they got back to the Ashfall Waste that she laid it, to his utter and complete shock. It was a single egg, but that was it. Atlantis was captivated with his hatchling coming, his own son. For some time, he settled down in the Ashfall Waste, nurturing the egg with Anala.
It was the night that Once was hatched that he heard the wisest words he would ever hear, that came from Anala. It was when they were talking about how the hatchling would be born with Fire eyes, its true home, and place. But that was when Anala turned to him, stopped him in his conversation, and met his jade eyes.
"Wait, Atlantis. Don't you realize, that all of us, no matter what alignment, have a fire of life, burning within our own hearts?"
Alrighty, thank you!! Go ahead and offer!!
- Callosyx, writing a scene for feral fullbody